


Close Your Eyes and Picture Me

by tardistoasgard



Category: Chicago Blackhawks - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardistoasgard/pseuds/tardistoasgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon Bollig gets sent back down to the Rockford Icehogs, hours away from Chicago and Andrew Shaw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes and Picture Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written literally in under an hour in response to Bollig being sent back down to the A. All mistakes are mine as it is un-beta'd. It's short so: sorry about that.

Brandon was feeling miserable. Hutts was over at Jmo’s with the boys but he had begged off, claiming he was tired from the drive back up to Rockford. He was laying on top of his blankets, still fully clothed and began to scratch idly at his beard. Hutton was kind enough to let him have the 2nd bedroom on short notice, seeing as most of Brandon’s stuff was still there. Sighing heavily, he went to toy with the bracelet he usually wore on his right wrist. When his fingers met bare skin, he quickly remembered who was wearing it.

Brandon closed his eyes and let out a groan when he was reminded that Shaw would be playing without him again. This time the distance felt much more palpable. Mostly Brandon would watch Andrew play from the tunnel, but now he’d be in Rockford while Andrew played in Chicago without him.  
Feeling significantly sorry for himself, Brandon went back to scratching at his thick beard and thinking about Andrew. He couldn’t tell what hurt more: being sent back down or being this far away from Shawzy. Their schedules would no longer coincide and Brandon wouldn’t be able to watch him skate. His traitorous brain provided clips of the way he skated, interspersed with memories of Andrew on his knees with his mouth around Brandon’s cock. 

He didn’t realize his hand had begun a trek from his beard down to the front of his pants until he realized how uncomfortable his clothes were feeling. Mentally shrugging, Brandon pulled off his shirt and kicked his pants down his legs, putting one arm behind his head and resting one hand low on his belly, still thinking about when their sexual tension came to its climax one night. Since then, they’ve never had enough time alone to indulge Brandon’s fantasy of completely wrecking Andrew. He let these images play behind his eyelids as he lazily rubbed his growing hard-on over the fabric of his boxers.  
“Fuck!” He hissed through clenched teeth as he heard his cell phone begin to go off next to his head. Picking up the offending tech, he almost threw it across the room before he saw who was calling him. Answering with a swipe of his finger, he held the phone to his ear.

“‘Lo?” He said, waiting to hear a response before he started to move his hand again.  
“Brandon, hey, you made it alright.” Andrew replied and he closed his eyes briefly, remembering that he should have texted him when he got to Rockford.  
“Yeah, sorry- I forgot to text you.” He said apologetically, beginning to trace the underside of this cock through his boxers, determined to take his time. Brandon checked the clock on the bedside table, it was almost time for Andrew’s pregame nap.

“No, don’t worry about it.” The line was quiet and then he added, “Is it stupid to say I miss you already?”  
Brandon huffed out a laugh and quickly responded, “It’s not stupid. I miss you too. How are we going to make this work in the offseason if we can’t handle a month apart, Canada?”  
The joke was weak and so was the nickname and he knew it, but he wanted to keep Andrew on the phone. His voice was slow and it sounded like he was already laying in bed as well. Brandon slipped his hand into his boxers and dragged his thumb through the bead of precum at the tip.

“I don’t know... Lots of plane tickets? Skype? Phone sex?” Andrew offered and Brandon couldn’t stop the hitch in his breath from imagining Shaw telling him filthy things over the phone in his sleepy voice.  
“Are you serious, Brandon?” Andrew clearly heard the noises he was beginning to make as he wrapped his hand around his cock.  
“You can always join me, mutt.” Brandon went out on a limb, “You know I love how you sound when I manhandle you into bed.”  
Shaw groaned and he smiled in triumph, listening as he heard him stripping down.  
“You still wearing my bracelet?” Brandon asked, resting the phone on the pillow next to his head so he could still hear all the minuet sounds from the other line.  
“You know it.” He responded, his voice becoming lower and making Brandon grin like a mad man. He heard Andrew’s hand moving fast and he quickly added, “Slow down, asshole. That’s not how I would do it.”

There was a scoff from the other end and the noises became slower and quieter. “What are you going to do now, without my sexy ass on the ice, huh?” Brandon prompted and Andrew laughed shakily but replied sarcastically, “Not have to look out for your big ass.”

“Is that supposed to make me want you, jerk?” Brandon joked anyway, thinking vaguely in the back of his mind that this isn’t how phone sex is supposed to be. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, just the sound of Andrew breathing heavy and wet into the phone was doing it for him- being far away but still close.  
He laughed again, “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say, Brandon.”  
The way Andrew’s breath hitched on his name made him begin to stroke himself faster, rubbing his thumb over the head on each upstroke. “You know I love the way you chirp me in bed.”  
Andrew groaned lowly and growled into the phone, “You just love me in bed. Or in the shower. Or even that one time in the kitchen. I still have bruises from that.”  
Brandon gritted his teeth but kept fucking his fist, grinding out, “Don’t act like you don’t get off on me using you.”  
He could hear the sharp inhale from Andrew and the way the soft sound of his hand sliding over his cock became more slick.  
“ _Fuck_ , Brandon,” Andrew huffed and he knew that Shaw was close so he slowed down his own hand to think properly and to make less noise so he could hear everything that was happening in Andrew’s room in Chicago.

“In the kitchen- remember how eager you were to suck my cock?” He heard a choked noise on the other line and continued, “You got off practically just on that. Then after I came on your face you let me clean it off of you while you humped my leg, eh, mutt?” Brandon figured he could have made that sexier sounding but it didn't matter because Andrew was coming hard and whining into the phone.  
Brandon screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on the kitchen scene in particular, listening to Andrew come down from his climax while he steadily worked towards his own.  
“I love sucking your cock, Brandon.” Shaw said from the other line and he grunted, jerking his hips up into each stroke. “I would have swallowed if you let me-” Andrew didn’t get to complete telling him whatever dirty scene he had intended that night because Brandon felt like he had hit a brick wall and practically growled at Andrew as dragged his fist over his cock until he worked himself through his orgasm. 

“Phone sex is definitely a thing that’s going to happen in the offseason.” Andrew said after he heard Brandon calm down.  
“Skype though,” He breathed, “Skype is a thing we should try.”  
“Agreed. I have to go now, gotta clean up before my nap.”  
Brandon smiled smugly and replied, “Sleep well, kid.”  
“You too, asshole.”


End file.
